


Transformation

by Traveler



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint getting into character, Kissing, Leather Trousers, M/M, Not Beta Read, Steve Watching, not AOU compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:32:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4413950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traveler/pseuds/Traveler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Steve leaned against the door-jam looking into their bedroom, arms crossed and head tilted watching the transformation taking place. When finished, it wouldn’t be Clint Barton his boyfriend, or even Hawkeye, the Avenger but . . ."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transformation

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of art, a figment of my (overactive) imagination. I do not make any money from this.
> 
> Note: My Steve Rogers isn't completely naive when it comes to things of the bedroom.

Steve leaned against the door-jam looking into their bedroom, arms crossed and head tilted watching the transformation taking place. When finished, it wouldn’t be Clint Barton his boyfriend, or even Hawkeye, the Avenger but this lithe, sensual creature. He loved watching it happen, had been stunned the first time he’d seen it, but found it to be just another layer of the man he’d fallen in love with.

He watched admiring the stretch of the muscles as the other man dusted his shaved legs with talcum powder, then reach for the leather pants laid out on the bed beside him. Pulling on the butter soft black leather pants. Steve’s hand twitched in memory of the feel of the calfskin under his hands; while his cock began to take interest.

Watching, as he pulled them up over his muscular thighs, slim hips coming to rest just at the top of his boyfriend's ample butt. The front coming to rest just below Natasha’s skillfully done Henna tattoo of a Celtic knot design that ringed his lover’s bellybutton. Steve bit his lip when Clint turned, bending slightly to pick the shirt up off the bed, giving him a view of how the leather molded itself to his firm globes.

Next came the sheer mesh shirt that the sleeves fell mid-hand and his thumbs peaked through slits in the double layered cuffs.   It was snug across the archer’s firm chest and accentuated his sculpted arms while dropping artfully to leave a sliver of skin playing peek-a-boo as the man moved.

Then he crossed the room to their dresser picking up each piece of jewelry; black cords with silver accented designs came to rest around his strong neck. Silver rings slipped onto callused fingers, an ear cuff was slipped on, and a small hoop threaded through the usually invisible whole in his earlobe.

Steve noted the change in the way the other man moved as he made his way back across their room towards the bathroom. It wasn’t the fluid movements of practiced, skilled combat or the relaxed gait of his boyfriend; this was the grace and fluidity of a dancer with a hint of what Stark would call “sex on legs”. Closing his eyes briefly, he captured the image in his mind so he could commit it in detail to paper later, while he waited for the other man. His cock filling out, hanging heavy between his legs but the urgency to take – claim wasn’t there. This was something to be savored, like a piece of meat during the war, or a decadent piece of bakery confection. Later after the mission was done, the intel gathered and communicated to those who needed; then it’d be his turn.

The sound of Clint moving back towards the bedroom had him opening his eyes. When the other man emerged, the cool light picked up the little piece of jewel now playing hide-and-seek from his belly button, but it was the kohl rimmed eyes, with the hint of smoky smudge, and a mascara that somehow managed to make his normally washed denim blue eyes pop with the softest shade of a rose pink painted across his lips.

He wasn’t Captain America for nothing; but this was a side of his lover that did things for him. Things he’d never thought possible back … then. He casually reached down and palmed his cock for just a moment, before the sound of Clint’s heavy boots landing on the floor caught his attention. Removing his hand from himself, he refocused, watching as the pulled heavy boots onto his feet and pulled the leather over them-letting the silver ring of the faux boot chain.

Finally, the dirty blond head turned to him, the lithe body standing and enchanting eyes meeting his waiting expectantly for the final step in this ritual they’d developed. Steve pressed off the door jam and made his way across the room to stand in front of the younger man, taking in the transformation; body encased in head to toe black with silver accents, the lines that tended to mar the other man’s features during the day, artfully masked – making him look younger, almost innocent.

Knowing better than to mess-up the outfit, he leaned forward cupping either side of the man’s jaw, feeling strong hands come to rest on his hips. Bringing their lips together, he kissed the other man nipping at his lips until they opened and allowed him to dip his tongue in for a taste. Steve pulled back, nipping and gently tugging at the others full bottom lip. Taking a moment to capture the image of his man; eyes closed, face upturned, just a hint of a contented smile tugging at kiss swollen lips. He couldn’t stop the words from slipping out, “You’re beautiful”.

The spell was broken, as the eyes were opened, the contented smile morphing into a cock-sure smirk and an inelegant snort issued, all business as he stepped away from Steve, “I’ll see you after this and we’ll take care of that,” nodding to the obvious tent in Steve’s pants, “when I get back,” and he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a photo collage I saw of Jeremy Renner taking off a mesh shirt on Google, and his penchant for wearing black eyeliner.


End file.
